


Caught In A Moment

by Bettina (skybs)



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:21:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skybs/pseuds/Bettina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is not over JC. He also thinks Nick Carter is hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught In A Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kim G (mickeym)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/gifts).



> For mickeym ([don we now our gay apparel 2004 (SeSa)](http://www.juppy.org/santa/by_alpha2004.php)), with thanks to karasevda for the idea and all the help, jewelianna for the beta, and turps33 for last minute reassurance.

Chris cracks his fingers, a habit his mother never liked, but for him it's just as much a way to relieve some energy as bouncing on the balls of his feet or doing cartwheels in room full of people... literally. He's never going to live this particular episode down, but it was so worth it. Chris grins at the memory and cracks his fingers again, ready for the charity basketball game.

He sees Lance animatedly talking to Brian and Nick. Brian is grinning with Nick leaning on him and Chris is still curious how they talked Lance into wearing the Backstreet Boys boxers. But then, as he watches Nick lean forward to put a hand on Lance's arm, maybe he doesn't want to know. On the other hand, it could make some good blackmail material.

"What'cha doing?" JC asks him, coming from behind and draping himself over Chris, his arms crossing loosely in front of Chris' chest.

Chris tries not to tense, really tries not to, but it's JC and all of a sudden he's so close and warm and his breath ghosts over Chris' skin. He wishes he could close his eyes, could lean back and let himself remember the familiar way they used to fit.

"Relax," JC says. Chris snorts and tries to wiggle out of JC's arms, but JC is stubborn, holding on tightly.

"I _am_ relaxed. JC," Chris adds warningly and JC lets go, slowly. He doesn't know if he wants to smack JC or himself for acting so stupid. It's been over for so long and he still acts like a love-struck teenager whenever JC is around him or touches him, which would be pretty much all the time.

"I know." JC's voice is quiet and understanding and laced with something that Chris thinks might be regret, but it's probably just his imagination.

"Nick Carter is hot," he blurts out, trying to distract himself from missing JC's touch and watching Nick with his arm around Lance's shoulder, whispering something into Lance's ear is as good a distraction in this situation as anything else.

"No, he's not."

"He is," Chris insists, keeping his eyes on Nick and Lance. Lance laughs in response to whatever Nick has said to him. "I'd do him," he adds like an afterthought. It's a joke, but JC is far from laughing. He doesn't say anything and Chris can feel his stare, prickling at the base of his neck.

"What?" he says, grinning at JC, "It's true."

JC shrugs. "Whatever," he says, his voice is definitely tense and not just Chris' imagination, and walks away.

Unable not to look, he watches JC talking to Justin, catching him glancing back at Chris and there's something in JC's eyes he can't quite decipher. For a split second Chris thinks JC might have looked jealous, but then he shakes his head to clear his mind, dismissing the thought.

JC jealous? No way.

***

Chris turns on his side and watches JC sleep in the other bed. Sharing a hotel room with JC feels like heaven and hell at the same time or maybe like being in a candy store unable to get his hands on all the sweets. Chris loves candy stores and he also loves to watch JC's sleeping, always has. JC awake is like an open book to read, and JC asleep is no different. He looks happy and Chris wonders what he's dreaming about.

 _"What did you dream about?" Chris asked and JC smiled, sleepily, eyes merely open._

 _"You," JC replied and that was enough for Chris. Enough to kiss that smile, open JC's mouth with his tongue, enough for him to slide his hand over sleep-warm skin, enough to roll over and cover JC's body with his own, enough to taste that throat, and lower, listen to quiet moans, and still lower, moans turning to gasps and desperate cries of his name._

Chris takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. He is hard with his hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing slightly, but he forces himself to stop. There's no way he can jerk off with JC just a few feet away. Well, he could, and in fact he had in the past, but it feels weird now. Not right.

Quietly, he stands up and makes his way to the bathroom. Once inside, Chris leans back against the door, sliding down slowly. He grabs his dick, jerking himself off with quick strokes. He tries not to think of JC, picturing some faceless guy going down on him and it seems to work until the guy looks up at him, his eyes the same shade of blue of JC's eyes and Chris comes.

He tugs on the towel hanging just a few inches away and cleans himself off, throwing it into the bathtub once he's done. He wraps his arms around his legs, resting his head on his knees.

"Fuck," he whispers, rocking back and forth.

 _"This is our chance," JC said and Chris nodded, the movement slow against JC's chest. "We can't...," and JC trailed off then, but Chris knew what he meant, because words weren't necessary for what he meant, for what he needed to say but chose to left unsaid._

 _It was too dangerous, being what they were, doing what they did. Still, Chris didn't know why he couldn't have both, the group and JC. But JC insisted and remembering Lou's disapproving look, Chris couldn't fault JC's reasoning. He didn't think Lou knew about Chris' and JC's relationship, but he was certain that it wouldn't go over well._

 _Everything for the group, for the most important chance they had. That didn't make it hurt any less, though. It also hurt more than he wanted to admit that JC seemed to take their decision to split a lot better than Chris did._

Chris lifts his head, letting it fall back against the door with a low thump. He hadn't thought he would miss being with JC so much, hadn't thought that what he didn't have now, would leave him raw and open and hurting. And he hates himself for still feeling like this.

"Fuck."

***

The next morning Chris almost swallows his tongue when JC comes out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his hips. His skin is still damp and Chris can see tiny droplets of water run down JC's chest.

"Morning," he mumbles and turns his back to JC, busying himself with tiding his bed. He thinks he might have heard JC laugh, just a little, probably because he hasn't made his bed ever before, but that doesn't stop him from doing it now. It's a good distraction and he really, really doesn't need to see JC parading around the room, clad with only a towel, and -- when risking a sneak from the corner of his eye -- casually dropping the towel to the floor and rooting for clothes in his bag, bending over. Chris seriously doesn't need to see this, because there is only so much he can take.

"Good morning," JC replies, ages later and he really sounds cheerful. Chris tries not to smile. JC always has been a morning person, regardless of how much or how little sleep he gets.

Tugging the last corner of the comforter in, he decides he'll make a run for the bathroom, tries to make himself as small as possible, turns, and--

"Chris?"

"Yes?" he asks, not wanting to turn but knowing it'd be rude and -- JC really is either a bastard or a complete fool -- standing there with tight white briefs, holding up a t-shirt up to his chest. JC looks expectant, eyes huge and innocent, and Chris clamps down on the anger rising inside. _You idiot, idiot, idiot,_ he thinks and stares, at everything but the shirt. It has been so long.

JC smiles, "I can't decide what to wear. This t-shirt," JC asks, indicating the one he's holding, "or the one on the bed? What do you think?"

Both shirts basically look the same, both are blue, though different shades, and the one on the bed has an unidentified stain on one sleeve. Chris shrugs, trying to look unaffected, but before he can say something JC drops the t-shirt he's holding, turning and bending again and really, just how much has Chris to go through before he can escape this madness?

"What about this one?"

This one is green, but beyond that Chris doesn't notice anything. He stares at JC's chest, the nipples hard from the cool air in the room. He licks his lips, eyes flickering over the creamy-white skin. He itches to touch; to run his fingertips over it, caressing.

"Chris?"

"Huh?"

JC holds another shirt up, eyebrows raised. "And this one?"

"Uh," Chris stammers. "I have to go. Sorry," he adds and flees from the room.

***

Chris joins Lance and Joey at breakfast, JC soon enough follows, wearing a black sweater instead of any of the shirts he made Chris look at, yawning and stretching in his seat across from Chris. Chris' gaze catches on the pale sliver of skin completely against his will. Did JC turn into an exhibitionist just to torture him? He forces himself to focus on something else -- Justin wolfing down his cereal is enough to kill any sexy thoughts -- and listens to Joey teasing Lance about the giant hickey on his neck.

"What's up?"

JC's startles him. "Huh?"

"You're so quiet." JC leans forward. "Is something wrong?"

Chris stares at JC, looking concerned and serious at him, and Chris swallows the lump in his throat, makes himself face JC's gaze unwaveringly, and answers, "Nothing wrong, just tired."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry."

JC doesn't look convinced, because they all know that a quiet Chris must mean something is seriously wrong, but he nods, taking another piece of bread from the plate in the middle of the table. "Okay," he says, "but if there's something wrong, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know. Thanks." And Chris smiles a little, because JC is still JC, always concerned, always there -- even if not like before -- he still cares, and that is maybe what kills Chris the most. He wishes, just a little, to be able to hate JC, just so that it would hurt less.

Joey glances at him with a sympathetic look on his face. Chris smiles, because Joey always notices. It's almost as if he has a sixth sense, telling him to fix whatever is wrong with his friends, but right now Joey's overprotective streak is the last thing he needs.

Chris rolls his eyes and mouths, "I'm fine." Joey doesn't look like he believes him, though. "Really," he adds tonelessly. Joey raises his eyebrows, but doesn't say anything.

***

By some miracle they have the night off and they find themselves at a dark and smoky club, really Justin's and Lance's idea because -- as they told Chris and Joey -- they just had to take advantage of the fact that they are legal in Germany. Chris feels more than he hears the techno beat thumping rhythmically, drowning out the voices around him.

For a while he watches Justin and Lance on the dance floor, Justin all smooth and fluid while Lance's movements are still a bit clumsy. As much as he teases Lance about his dancing skills, Chris has to admit that he has improved a lot. Lance almost looks like he enjoys himself out there, even though Justin had to literally drag him out to the dance floor.

Then he notices JC standing at the bar, his stance open and inviting, talking enthusiastically to some tall, blond guy. Chris takes a sip from his beer, gripping the glass tightly as the blond guy leans forward and touches JC's arm. JC laughs, but doesn't move away from the touch. He looks comfortable and happy and not at all bothered by the guy hitting on him, which in turn bothers Chris.

JC jealous? No way. Chris on the other hand is a different story.

Chris takes another sip, frowning. What are they talking about anyway? It's not as if JC's German is so good, but then JC never has any problems getting to know new people. He's good like that.

He sets down the beer and gets up. He has to get out of here, the dark club and the smoky air among other things giving him a headache, and maybe he could try kicking himself. He really should be able to get over JC.

He stumbles through the masses of people towards the entrance. Outside he takes a deep breath, rubbing his fingers over his burning eyes.

"Hey, what's up?"

He feels a heavy hand on his shoulder and Chris whirls around, heart thumping, but it's only Joey and Chris relaxes, "Nothing."

"This doesn't look like nothing to me."

In all the years Chris has known Joey, he has learned one thing; there's no way to fool Joey Fatone. Chris leans against a wall. Though, it doesn't mean he's not trying. "I'm not smoking up, if you think that."

Joey grins. "You don't like getting stoned alone," he says, leaning closer. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"You're still head over heels in love with JC and it's killing you." Joey is no one to beat around the bush either. "You have to talk to him."

"There's nothing to talk about, Joey! JC...," Chris catches himself at the last moment, "we _both_ decided it's the best..."

"What you both decided is total utter crap!" Joey interrupts angrily. "You're miserable, JC is miserable and how does this make anything better? How does this help the group?"

"I don't need to listen to this!" Chris tries to get away from Joey, needs to get away from the truth and his self-pity, but Joey grabs his arm.

"That's it, huh?" Joey asks, leaning forward into Chris' personal space. "You're just accepting this? Without even trying to get JC back?" Joey releases Chris, frustrated. "I can't even tell you how often we were wondering what they did to the real Chris, because, frankly, the real Chris wouldn't have accepted this crap. He would have fought tooth and nail and he wouldn't have given up. Never!"

"You don't know what you're talking about." Chris grinds out.

"I know enough. This is not like you."

"You know what, Fatone? You're full of shit." Chris pushes Joey away, making his way back inside the club and pretending not to hear Joey's "You two belong together."

***

When Chris wakes up the next morning, head aching and his mouth dry, he has his arms around a warm body that suspiciously smells like JC; sweet like honey and kind of minty at the same time, but he knows he was alone when he passed out. He opens his eyes slowly and meets JC's smiling face.

"Good morning," JC says, his eyes sparkling.

Chris blinks, opening his mouth and closing it again without saying anything. Normally he's not the kind of guy to be speechless, in fact the ability to babble whatever came to mind at any given moment is one of his better features. At least he likes to think that, but right now, with JC looking at him, nothing comes to mind.

He can't remember how often he woke up with JC next to him, smiling and happy, and for a fraction of a second the break-up seems like a bad dream before reality comes crashing back, leaving him with a sour aftertaste. "Um," he finally says, "I gotta pee."

He scrambles out of bed and stumbles into the bathroom. _Real smooth,_ he thinks, feeling stupid and fighting against the urge to bang his head against the wall. When he leaves the bathroom twenty minutes later, after a long cold shower, JC is still lying in his bed, blanket tightly wrapped around him.

Chris still doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't and starts dressing without so much as a glance in JC's direction.

"I was cold."

"Huh?" Chris turns around to look at JC.

"Last night," JC said, his hand slipping out to pat the bed next to him, "I didn't think you'd mind."

Oh.

"Oh," Chris says. "I, uh, didn't mind." JC was just cold and Chris doesn't know if this makes it better or worse.

JC smiles sleepily. "Good."

Chris smiles back, even though he doesn't quite know what to make of this, because waking up with JC in the same bed is too much of a reminder what he doesn't have anymore. But then, sleepy JC is always cute and adorable with his eyes half closed and curled up on his side and there is nothing Chris wouldn't do for JC right now, if he just would ask.

 _Idiot,_ he scolds himself. He turns around, leaving the room, an unspoken "I love you" hanging in the air.

***

Chris is bored and when he is bored he tends to think things to death, which is definitely not a good thing when he doesn't want to think about the things he is thinking about. Thoughts like that also tend to give him a headache.

Looking around for a suitable victim, Chris cracks his fingers and jumps on Justin's back, digging his fingers into Justin's side. Tickle fights with Justin are always a great way to distract himself and most of all it's a fun way to spend the time. Justin is too serious anyway.

"Get off me," Justin yells, giggling.

"Make me," he shouts back. He wraps his legs around Justin's waist and continues to tickle Justin. Justin groans, wobbling under Chris' weight and it's just a matter of time before Justin trips and falls over with Chris on top.

Chris grins and starts his tickle attack again. Justin is laughing so hard, his face red and tears streaming down his face, that Chris can feel his whole body shake with it.

"Chriiiiis, stop!" Justin cries, hiccupping with laughter. "Help! Somebody help meeee!"

"Tickle fight!"

He hears JC's voice a second before he feels the fingers on his neck, feather light and tickling. He tenses and it's just the distraction Justin needs to roll them around and get the upper hand. He's lying on his back with Justin and JC on top of him and now he is on the receiving end of the tickle attack.

"Hah," Justin crows, high-fiving JC, "Who's the master now, huh?"

"Ungh," Chris replies, giggling helplessly. Hands are all over his body, tickling and poking, and it's one of the drawbacks of living in each other pockets when your friends know all your ticklish spots and shamelessly take advantage of it. Not that he would ever do such a thing himself. No, he definitely wouldn't.

He squirms and wiggles, trying simultaneously to get free and protect himself from the attack, and then it happens.

There is a touch on his inner thigh, like a caress and oh so familiar. Chris tenses, looking past Justin's laughing face, and he knows there is nothing accidental about it. He can see it in JC's eyes, dark and big. He does what anyone would do in a situation like that.

He panics.

"Get off me!" He gets a grip on Justin's arms and shoves Justin off him with more force than necessary. He jumps to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest. He feels like a caged animal with no way to get out.

"What's your problem?"

JC's voice pierces through the blood rushing in his ears and there's Justin sitting on the floor all confused. He's barely aware of JC leaning down to Justin, talking to him, and then Justin is gone and only JC is there, eyes narrow and looking very much pissed off.

"What is wrong with you?"

Chris focuses on JC's face. "Nothing," he says, feeling slightly hysterical, laughter bubbling up in his chest. "Nothing at all. I'm just peachy."

JC isn't amused, stalking closer. Chris tries to get past him, but JC is faster, grabbing his arm and pressing him against the wall. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" JC repeats, his voice low and dangerous.

"Let me g..." Chris starts, but then JC's lips are on his, bruising and rough. His mind screams at him to stop, to push JC away, because this is wrong. They aren't supposed to do this anymore. They had agreed! But JC is so close and warm and his heart aches at how much he has missed this. So close, his toes curling at the mere touch of JC's hand on his cheek, and he opens his mouth wide like the desperate man he is, drowning in JC's kisses.

Pressing himself closer, his arms circling around JC's waist, he groans in frustration, because he can't get close enough. He manages to worm his hands under JC's t-shirt, running his fingers over soft skin and it's still not enough. He's unbelievingly hard just from the desperate kisses, humping against JC, but he needs more. More skin, more kisses, more friction, just more.

He pants, trying to breathe and kiss JC at the same time and JC must have read his mind, because he miraculously has managed to open his zipper. Chris moans into JC's mouth as JC's fingers wrap around his cock, squeezing and stroking, and Chris knows he won't last long.

 _JCJCJCJCJCJCJC,_ he repeats in his mind as his orgasm builds, gasping, and he doesn't know if it is a plea for JC to stop or to continue. Probably both. JC breaks the kiss in favor of licking over Chris' neck, at the spot right below his ear that always makes him want to crawl inside JC's skin.

JC is humping against his hip and Chris thinks he should do something, like jerk JC off in return, but then JC sucks harder on his neck and all thoughts of reciprocating are gone. He hangs on, moaning, gasping, and JC's clever fingers run over his dick, squeezing and massaging.

"Come," JC whispers, nibbling on his earlobe and it's so incredibly hot. Chris grips JC's shoulder and comes, crying out. He sees stars behind his closed eyelids and if it weren't for JC holding him up, he surely would slide down to the floor and never get up again.

Leaning against JC, Chris is slowly coming down from his high. He tenses as the realization hits with what they have done. He wants to push away, but JC still holds him and he doesn't have the willpower to let go.

JC has his head buried in Chris' neck. "I missed you," he says so soft Chris almost misses the words, piercing through his heart like an arrow. Arrow through the heart, the thought is amusing and Chris doesn't know if he should laugh or cry.

"I missed you, too." It almost hurts as the words tumble out of his mouth. He knows there is no way he can go back to pushing back his feelings. It was hard the first time, but it would be agony now. Chris swallows the lump in his throat and before he can stop himself he says, "I want to try again."

JC lifts his head from Chris' shoulder to look at him. His eyes are huge, the black of the pupil drowning out the blue, his lips are red and swollen. _Beautiful,_ Chris thinks and lifts his fingers to trace the curve of JC's lips.

"I want to be able to kiss you again," he whispers.

"I want that too," JC says, smiling, and leans forward for a kiss.

The kiss is sweet and tender, like the first time they had kissed so long ago, and nothing like the desperate kisses from before. Chris runs his tongue over JC's lower lip and it is like coming home.

***

Chris cracks his fingers, searching the backstage area of the "Bravo Super Show" for a suitable victim. So far no luck, but he sees Nick and Lance play ball in one corner and Brian tending to a very sick looking AJ.

"So," JC says, draping his arm around Chris' shoulders, "you still have a thing for Nick Carter?"

"Maybe. He's hot." Chris grins. Lance sucks playing basketball, but what Lance lacks in game, he's got in enthusiasm and Nick seems to enjoy it anyway. Chris glances at JC. "Not as hot as you, though."

JC grins back. "Good."

  
End.


End file.
